Give Peace a Chance
by peut-etre-poulet
Summary: Claire grows tired of Charlie's constant chattering    SPOILERS: mild Par Avion


**Title::..**Give Peace a Chance

**Spoilers::..**_Par Avion_

**Rating::..**G

**Genre::..**Fluff

**Characters::..**Claire, Charlie and Aaron

**Pairing::..**CC

**Author's Note::..**I came up with this idea after I spent the Easter Long Weekend with my family; this included my 6-year-old cousin. She spent the weekend climbing all over me, insisting we play the same puzzle game over-and-over-and-over until I was ready to beat my brains out with the iPad we were playing it on, not to mention following me out of the room every time I left the living room, EVEN TO THE BATHROOM! I don't have much experience with kids (I do not intend to have my own, thank you very much!) so it felt like I was at the beach, trying to swim while she was the waves, constantly coming at me and tiring me out. She's a sweet kid but I just couldn't handle her demanding my attention so constantly. So when it came time to write a new _Lost_ fic I couldn't help thinking of a favourite character of mine who occasionally acts like a bit of a child.

After watching season 5 for the second time and falling even more in love with Suliet I thought my next fic might be focused on them. But here we are, notching another CC fic up on my tally-board. This probably has something to do with me not yet having ideas for Suliet fic-age…breaking new ground, eee, scary!

The title is taken from the John Lennon song of the same name. I mean no disrespect by taking the title of an important song and using it for a different meaning on a light-hearted fic. It's just that I was watching MAX MUSIC's countdown of 'Top 1000: Greatest Songs of All Time' and _Give Peace a Chance_ came on at number 226, around the time I started plotting out this fic. I think the song works perfectly if you use the word 'peace' in a completely different context, and at my 116th _Lost_ fic I'm FAR TOO LAZY to keep coming up with original titles for all of these fics.

**Summary::..**Claire grows tired of Charlie's constant-chattering.

'_all we are saying is Give Peace a Chance…'_

After living alongside each other on the island for three months Charlie and Claire had become comfortable together. It had been timid to begin with then everything had fallen apart around them. Recently the bridge between them had been repaired and they were spending a lot of time together.

Claire was glad for a friend as sweet as Charlie to help her through the ordeals on the island. She considered Charlie to be one of the best friends she had ever had in her life. He was always there for her, no matter the situation she could depend on him to be there, offering his help however it was required. She certainly appreciated him never judging her, after everything in his past how could he pass judgement on her?

He was a great friend, as loyal as a well-trained dog. After some initial hesitation she now felt willing to trust him and accept him into her life. This meant he was often in her tent. Almost every morning she had barely finished feeding Aaron when Charlie burst into the tent, chattering enthusiastically about something. They spent the days taking care of Aaron together; this was broken up by impromptu sing-a-longs on the beach and walks alongside the border of the jungle. They ended every day eating dinner together.

No matter how much he made her laugh or how great he was with Aaron there were times when she felt it was all too much. In the mornings she took great delight in seeing his cheerful smile. But by the end of the day she was exhausted. She was very relieved he didn't yet feel comfortable enough to ask to spend the night in her tent. She would wait until he was down the beach then she would collapse onto her bed, taking in many deep breaths as she absorbed all of the glorious silence. If she were lucky she would be granted ninety minutes of sleep before Aaron began crying, demanding to be fed.

She enjoyed Charlie's company greatly but she wished for time on her own. She dreamt of a day when she could get all of her chores done without him following her around like a bulkier version of her shadow. There were days when she felt suffocated; everywhere she turned he was waiting for her. All she wished for were a couple of hours for her to breathe. She was so busy talking to him she had barely written in her diary all month. She was lacking in her own time to unwind.

Finally she couldn't take it any longer (when she wrote about it in her diary later that day she would blame it all on her hormones, as any other woman would) and she snapped. She had woken up with a headache, Aaron wouldn't settle in her arms and Charlie hadn't stopped talking for the entire day. She kept checking her watch, willing time to move faster so it would reach nine o'clock and he would go to his own tent to sleep. But it was only two and she was exhausted, as if she had been awake for days.

"Charlie!" She burst out, interrupting his one-sided conversation about how the Sex Pistols had changed the face of British rock forever. Aaron was squirming like a worm, pushing against her chest in the most uncomfortable way. All she wanted to do was scream. "Could you please stop talking?"

The good-natured smile refused to leave his face, confusion pulled his eyebrows down into a knot. "Huh? What're you talking about?"

"Please." She was trying to be polite despite her tense voice. "I'm sorry, I'm sure this is very interesting but it's just that you've been talking for _so long_ and I have _the worst_ headache."

He wasn't offended. "Oh I totally understand. I'll go get your some aspirin."

"No, I appreciate the offer but I think I really just need to be alone for the rest of the day." She elaborated. "I think that I just…I just need a break."

Finally his face fell. "Of course." After some awkward shuffling in his seat he got up. "I guess I'll get out of your hair then…"

"I'm sorry Charlie." She sighed. She hated to see him so glum but she couldn't resist the call of silence.

He forced a smile to make her feel better. "It's cool. I'll see you tomorrow." He kept glancing back over his shoulders until he disappeared out of sight.

A weight was lifted from her chest. There was a pressure involved in constantly being in another's company, she had to listen and respond accordingly. The guilt of pushing Charlie away was erased by the calming sea breeze. After wresting with Aaron for a few more minutes she placed him in his cradle. Then she could move on to folding her washing. She even hummed to herself a little as her headache began to ease.

* * *

><p>Charlie didn't come to see Claire the next morning. She was more relieved than upset. She saw him in the kitchen at breakfast time and she lied to him, saying her head was still giving her strife. He went to his own tent and she returned to hers, soothing a slightly less fussy Aaron. She was yet to miss him; she was enjoying being a possession of the silence. Not having to plan things to say to him allowed her time to appreciate the potential of the day that lay ahead of her.<p>

It was a productive day for her; she completed the majority of her chores. After spending yesterday pushing her patience to the absolute limit Aaron had tired himself out and today he was content to lay in his cradle as she gently rocked it with her foot. She folded her clean clothes then washed a dirty pile that had been steadily growing taller. Aaron cooed and gurgled as she flung the dripping clothes over the wire Charlie had strung up for her a week or so ago. She changed the bedding of Aaron's cradle and restocked her supply of full water bottles. Aaron blew bubbles at her as she worked in the sunlight.

When all of the odd jobs were completed she decided to take full advantage of the peace. She sat at the front of her tent and folded her legs in front of her. She placed a dozing Aaron in her lap. Straightening her back she closed her eyes and put herself into a meditative state. She and Aaron were perfectly still aside from their chests, expanding and contracting in time with each other. She didn't know what he was dreaming about; she was concentrating on the waves crashing into the sand in their endless rhythm. There were voices on the beach but they were much too far away to annoy her.

For some reason her mother's face popped into her mind. It hurt too much to think of a woman she feared she would never see again. She opened her eyes trying to avoid the emotional memory. Glancing around her eyes almost immediately fell upon Charlie. He was down the beach, seated on the sand outside of his tent. But instead of nursing a child he had his guitar in his lap. He wasn't concentrating too carefully on his music, rather it appeared he had been watching and waiting for her to look at him. He smiled, picking his hand up and waving it gently in her direction.

She returned the gesture without much gusto. She turned away from him quickly. She didn't want to send him an incorrect message and have him think she wanted him to come over and chew on her ear again. Not long after this she gathered Aaron up and returned to the solitude of her tent. He latched himself on to the front of her shirt, playing with her hair as she tried not to think about Charlie. It had been such a long time since someone had taken such an unwavering interest in her. She wasn't used to having someone care so deeply about her. He didn't understand the idea of moderation. He wanted to be with her constantly. After she had spent so long getting used to being alone having him demanding so much of her was frightening. She curled into her shell where things were easy, semi-predictable and warm.

* * *

><p>Charlie didn't feel confident enough to go talk to Claire. He was humiliated. His ego was wounded and he kept away from Claire as he nursed it back to full health. He supposed this distance between them was what she had hoped to achieve when she had asked him to leave. He didn't know how he could approach her again after this. She had completely shut him down, how could he find the confidence to talk to her? He couldn't be sure that she wanted to see him anymore. She had asked him to stop talking, did this mean she disapproved of the topic or was she sick of him altogether? He knew he could be full-on. There were times when he was with Claire and he could hear himself babbling. But he couldn't help it, silences made him very uncomfortable. Living on a deserted island all they had was conversation. He simply wished to keep Claire entertained. It appeared she didn't appreciate the effort.<p>

If she didn't want him to talk what was he supposed to do when they were hanging out? Should he be silent (a polite way of saying 'boring') and let her attention wander elsewhere? He was so confused it was exhausting him. Being without her wasn't any easier than before. But he could find a positive this time – he had written rough drafts for five songs about the situation. They were only the beginnings of songs, the skeletons awaiting flesh and clothing to define their personalities. Even in the early stages he knew the songs had the potential to be hits. They were songs about heartbreak and songs focused on this theme always gained the best sales (after dance songs of course).

He focused on the songs, resisting every urge in his body telling him to go see Claire. He may not know how to talk to her anymore but that didn't mean he didn't stop wanting to be around her. He played with notes on his guitar and scribbled appropriate phrases into his notebook. All of this kept him in his own tent rather than looking to hers and pining.

The work had finally consumed him when she came to see him. It had been three days since he had been in her tent. By now he had moved his attention away from her. He still thought about her very often but work was beginning to dominate his attention more. He was so busy writing that he didn't notice her at first. He felt he was on the verge of a break-through with this song when she cleared her throat loudly.

He looked up and there she was. Her blonde hair (always untamed) was blowing in the breeze, a hectic gold cloud floating around her head. Aaron was wide awake, leaning against her chest and looking out at all of the activity on the beach. His eyes were the same shape and colours as hers. But they weren't identical to hers. Aaron's eyes didn't hold recognition the way Claire's did. Seeing this stung Charlie's heart like a blade.

"Hey Charlie." She began, fiddling with Aaron's cushion of a foot.

"Claire." He acknowledged, he felt it would take a while to warm up to her again. "Hey Aaron."

Aaron pumped his legs in response. She tried on a smile. 'I'm sorry I haven't come to see you earlier."

"No, it's okay, I get it, you've got the little one to take care of." He said.

"Yeah, how've you been?" She inquired.

"Busy." He replied so as she wouldn't feel guilty. "I've started writing more new songs for Drive Shaft's triumphant comeback record."

"What are the songs about?" She inquired.

He had underestimated her. He hadn't expected her to be interested. Now that she had he was bashful, gathering his papers up and tucking them out of sight beneath his rear. He didn't want her to know he had been writing songs about how cruel she was. "It's okay Claire; you don't have to pretend like you're interested."

"But I am." She informed him taking a seat beside him on the sand. "I've missed you Charlie."

His attempts to show her a cold shoulder instantly melted. Maybe it was the sincerity in her eyes. Or maybe it was the way he could never resist her accent, his name had never sounded as beautiful as it did when rolling off of her tongue. She was his dream girl. She was his solution to wash away all of the dirt of his past. He felt she and Aaron were his only chance at a future. "I've missed you too. But I gotta say I'm surprised to hear you say that."

"I'm sorry I was so rude." She said.

"It's okay, I'm annoying." He filled in. "Don't worry it's not the first time I've heard it."

"You're not annoying." She began and he scoffed sarcastically. "You just talk a lot. Well, it's all of the time actually. But I like to relax. We don't have to talk every second of the day. We can sit and enjoy each other's company, and the silence."

He smiled, absorbing what she was saying rather than becoming defensive and refusing to listen. "Relax?"

"Relax." She agreed, smiling as well. "Like this." She leant in and pushed her lips against his. When she withdrew he released a shaky breath as his heart raced. "See, no words."

He grinned, his cheeks burning. "I think I could get used to this no talking thing."

They shared a smile then she looked away from him. What felt like a million things to say popped into his head. He kept his mouth shut. Instead of desperately stringing together seventy or so sentences he sat and pondered the beauty of Claire's face. Without having to concentrate on coming up with exciting conversation topics he was able to focus on her. This allowed him to discover a small spattering of freckles on her cheek he had never seen before. He felt silence had never before been so enjoyable.

The End.


End file.
